The Golden Days
by Amy's Bones
Summary: One couldn't deal with endings. One couldn't handle beginnings. Both were powerful beings with something to prove. When gold takes over Paris, new heroes are called forth to fight for the greater good – with dangerous consequences. Goals are changed, alliances shift and teenage drama complicates everything. No OCs. *Hiatus*
1. Prologue

**Author's note:** Hello everybody!

This is my take on Ladybug and Chat Noir's adventures. This is pretty AU as the characters are all slightly aged-up and I'm adding my own villain (I promise, one day you'll understand). The story will be a couple shades darker than what we see on TV, so be warned. Not that there won't be lots of fluff, too. (Let's not forget our healthy dose of sarcasm, either.) I'm just making their adventures a bit more realistic, coupled with a new mystery villain and a whole lot of kicking-ass – and getting one's ass-kicked.

 **Warning** : This chapter might be a bit – perhaps a lot? I don't know? – dark – nothing graphic, I promise – but don't worry, it's just to set the mood. Super-heroes aren't as invincible as the average human being might think, especially with our new super-villain.

 **Disclaimer:** Rien ne m'appartient, Thomas. Ne te fâche pas.

* * *

 **Prologue**

* * *

Everything was burning.

Adrien sat against the crumbling wall, the heat that surrounded him reminding him of better days. He raised a trembling hand to his eyes, trying to wipe the crippling confusion away. Frowning, he realised that something was missing from his finger. He let his arm fall back to his side, his breath coming in short painful gasps.

"This is _your_ fault."

Adrien would have voiced his agreement, but he'd lost his ability to speak the moment he'd seen his father's body drop to the ground. Groaning, he fought the urge to let the darkness take him. Now wasn't the moment to dwell on past mistakes. He needed to do something. He needed to move.

" _You_ started all this."

The young boy used the wall behind him to get to his feet, ignoring the searing pain those four words caused. He didn't want to believe them. Words were just words. They lacked meaning – a reason to be. Actions spoke louder. He needed to act.

He took a shaky step forward, looking into his enemy's eyes for the first time since he'd witnessed Chloé take a direct hit for a friend. Amidst the chaos, Adrien still noticed the agony in the golden orbs staring back at him. A deep suffering that only those who'd lived through the same would understand. Broken beyond repair – Adrien would know. He was an _Agreste_ , after all. He'd never imagined he'd have to walk towards the source of his nightmares without Plagg by his side.

"This _needs_ to end," The voice growled, "I've been through this too many times."

For a fleeting moment, Adrian permitted his mind to wander. How relieving would it be, to be robbed of all feelings. He wouldn't have to relive his best friend's final words, or Alya's bloodcurdling screams. He wouldn't have to remember how he had failed to save Paris and its people, or the disappointment in Master Fu's eyes. But such bliss would only come for the deserving.

The man in the dark cloak pointed to his left, the madness of it all making his skin crawl. "She died because of _you_!"

Adrien's knees gave in, unable to take the pain this time. He closed his eyes, shame overwhelming his senses. He didn't recognize his own voice when he spoke, "I didn't mean to."

"You still killed her."

He shook his head. "I would never–"

"Open your eyes! She's _right_ there. Look at her and tell me that this isn't your fault. I _dare_ you."

Adrien slammed his fists on the ground. "I couldn't save–"

"You have to pay for what you did," Barked the man, his tone as broken as his soul, "you _have_ to."

"What are you waiting for?" Adrien's shattered whisper turned into a desperate wail, " _What are you waiting for?"_

The older man blinked. "Your choice."

He'd made his choice a long time ago.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Like I said earlier, this story won't be _this_ dark all the time. Also, this will make sense soon. Probably. (Maybe.)

Anyways, thanks for reading, I appreciate it. Penny for your thoughts?


	2. Chapter One - Everyone hates something

**Author's Note:** Hello again!

So, here's the first real chapter of this fic – with significantly less angst and more fluff and character development. Quick note - You may have noticed that I'm using the French names, instead of the English names. I prefer those names, sue me. I watch the show in French – it's my native language – but I hate writing in French, so yeah.

 **Disclaimer:** Miraculous ne m'appartient toujours pas, je ne fais qu'utiliser les personnages.

* * *

 **Chapter One - Everyone hates something  
**

* * *

Marinette hated entrance exams.

Sighing angrily, she dropped her pencil on the table, looking at the seventeenth design of the same stupid dress with annoyance. Nothing was working. The colour was wrong, the length was off, she couldn't decide on which fabric to use and her patience was wearing thin. Technically, it wasn't too late to stop with the massacre and focus on something else – like a hat, she liked hats – but she'd spent too much time and energy on this piece of clothing to abandon the project. Also, Marinette Dupain-Cheng wasn't a quitter. She'd been through worse things than this, as both Ladybug and herself. A dress was nothing. _Nothing_.

Why did she need to make such a difficult dress, anyway?

Her eyes flickered to the brochure sitting on her night-table. The IFM – Institut Français de la Mode – was the most prestigious fashion school in France, and Marinette wanted in. She really, _really_ wanted in. There were other excellent schools in Paris, she knew, but she didn't just want to become a fashion designer. She wanted to become _the_ fashion designer – and that required hard work, the occasional mental breakdowns and a shitload of coffee.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced at Tikki's sleeping form on her cat pillow and Marinette realized just how exhausted she felt. Frowning slightly, she grabbed her phone from its usual charging spot and looked at the time. 02:17.

"Crap," She muttered, letting her head hit the desk quietly, careful not to wake her Kwami.

The last thing she needed was a lecture about how dangerous it was to be sleep-deprived, as in the events of an Akuma attack, she might make dumb mistakes that could put everyone – including herself – at risk. While Marinette wholeheartedly agreed, there hadn't been any significant attacks in _weeks_. She'd had to transform in Ladybug a couple times, sure, but mostly for publicity and to remind the people of Paris that she was still there.

She was about to put her phone back when she noticed the message bubble flicker. She clicked on it and her frown deepened.

 **Alya Césaire (23:01):** _gurl Chat Noir has been sighted near your bakery take a picture if you see him_

 **Alya Césaire (23:17):** _did you see him?_

 **Alya Césaire (23:18):** _R u awake?_

Marinette thought about going up to the roof for a moment, until deciding against it. Alya had sent her those texts more than three hours ago. Had Chat Noir truly been around her neighbourhood, he would have come by. The young girl instinctively raised her fingers to her ears, an unexplainable feeling of nostalgia washing over her. She would be lying if she said that she didn't miss being Ladybug. The _real_ Ladybug. The one that fought to keep the city safe from Hawk Moth and his Akumas. Not the one that stopped petty thieveries and helped old people cross the street.

Marinette groaned. Not that she _disliked_ helping the elderly or the police – she loved being able to help the ones in need. But the lack of _true_ action rendered her Miraculous somewhat useless. It was nice, seeing Paris so peaceful. It was calming. Reassuring.

But annoyingly boring.

Not to mention that since Hawk Moth's sudden disappearance, her patrols with Chat had been close to non-existent. They'd braced themselves for the worst, expecting the villain to make a spectacular comeback out of nowhere, but the attack never came. They continued their night patrols for a while, until coming to the conclusion that _nothing_ was happening, whether they were there or not. Plus, her senior year of high school wasn't going as smoothly as she'd hoped. Too much homework, too many life-altering decisions to make, and too much stress. She knew that adding Ladybug's responsibilities would overwhelm her, but at the same time, she really missed being a hero. She missed Chat Noir's constant presence in her life, despite his tendency to get on her nerves.

It was odd to think that she saw her partner more as Marinette than as Ladybug. He came by her roof sometimes – not for long – to make sure her neighbourhood was safe. He looked alright, most of the time. A bit tired, perhaps. Just like her. His civilian life – whomever he was behind his cat puns – was probably just as hard as hers. If not worse. He'd told her – Ladybug, not Marinette – that he'd have to patrol less because of the monstrous amount of work his last year in high school represented. That was probably the only thing she knew about his normal self. That, and his unconditional love for macarons. (Marinette found that one out, one night.)

Smiling fondly at the memory, she made her way to her bed and tucked herself under the covers, cautious not to wake Tikki up.

Paris was safe, and Marinette missed being someone else.

* * *

Adrien positively hated photoshoots.

"–you have to turn your head a bit – _there_ , don't move – and now up – _perfect_ , mon garcon – and now do that thing with your eyes – yes, now smile–"

The young blonde tried not to wince as the photographer snapped his pictures, the flash pretty close to blinding him permanently. He moved his arms and face as told, but his heart wasn't in it. If there was _one_ place the model didn't want to be at the moment, it was in the middle of a deserted park at night. He had better things to do. Homework, video games, patrolling – anything but this, really.

As his mind started to wander, he noticed Natalie's cold business eyes settle on him, her expression unforgiving. He inwardly groaned. It's like the woman had a radar that flared every time he dared to have moment to himself. She raised a challenging eyebrow at him, daring him to step a toe out of line. Adrien bit his lip and averted his eyes, bringing them back to Gérard Montmercy, his newest photographer.

"–oh, yes that's perfect, monsieur Agreste – bite your lip – the girls will _love_ it–"

Adrien rolled his eyes, unable to help it, but didn't miss how Natalie's jaw twitched. For a moment, he stared at her expressionless face, wondering what she was going to do. He knew that she hated how insolent he was, sometimes. How _dare_ he try to have a normal life, right? She usually told his father about his 'bad' behaviour, which usually ended up with Gabriel Agreste lecturing him on how to _be_. The look in her eyes, however, said that she was in the mood for a lecture herself.

The woman turned to Montmercy, gesturing for him to lower his camera. "Adrien is in need of a break."

"From you," he thought, gritting his teeth.

She made her way to the young model and he prepared himself for a nice and long speech on how to act around photographers and other things he already knew, but couldn't be bothered to apply. She crossed her arms over her chest. "That wasn't very professional of you."

He feigned ignorance, relishing on how easy it was to anger her. "I don't know what you mean."

Natalie pursed her lips. "Your father won't like this."

"What does he like, really?" Adrien said, grabbing the hidden water bottle in the bush to his left, "if you find out, let me know."

" _Adrien_."

" _Natalie_."

"This isn't a game, young man."

He snorted. "What a boring game it would be."

"You're behaving like a child," She chastised, her eyebrows drawn together in an annoyed frown.

"I _am_ a child?" He reminded her, taking a large gulp of his strawberry flavoured water.

"You're seventeen-years-old."

He raised an impressed eyebrow. "You remembered that all on your own?"

"This is _it_."

With one last meaningful look, she stormed away towards Gérard, probably telling him some stupid lie about how tired he was – or something the likes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, aware that he might have crossed a line, this time, but far beyond caring. He noticed how The Gorilla – his bodyguard – slowly turned his back to him, giving him the signal to make a quick escape. The Gorilla, despite being enormous and imposing, knew when the young man needed time for himself. Smiling thankfully, Adrien grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair and ran into the night.

* * *

Alya hated peace-time.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She didn't _truly_ hate peaceful Paris. She just strongly disliked the calm that went with it. She didn't enjoy seeing people get Akumatized – she knew how horrible the experience was – but she was _desperate_. Her Ladyblog was spiralling down the metaphorical drain.

Since Hawk Moth's temporary retirement – she refused to believe that he was gone forever – her two favourite super-heroes were basically MIA. She'd tried to get them to answer a couple questions, but they're hard people to track, _especially_ when there aren't any attacks happening.

Alya glanced over at her boyfriend sitting on her bed, helping himself to a small bag of paprika-flavoured crisps. The edge of her lips twitched. "You okay there, Nino?"

He chuckled, licking the crumbs of his fingers. "Peachy."

"Did you leave any for me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Who do you take me for?"

Grinning, she set her glasses on the desk and tackled the young man to the bed. He'd barely registered her moving when he found his back pressed against the mattress. She snuggled up to him, hiding her face into his neck, while his arms encircled her soft waist. She loved those moments. When she was just Alya and he was just Nino. "You're the best."

He smiled. "I love you, too."

For a long moment, the couple just lay there, enjoying each other's company in an oh-so-comfortable silence. Alya tried not to think of her blog, but somehow couldn't help herself. She didn't like endings – especially things she loved doing. She loved everything about it. The adrenaline when something happened or when she got to meet her heroes. The pride when Ladybug called her by her name, or when Chat Noir had asked for her help. The satisfaction when her blog had been one of the most visited websites in Paris. Why did it have to come to an abrupt end?

"Babe?"

He hummed.

"Don't you think things are a bit boring now?"

Nino tensed. She realized her mistake.

"God, that's not what I– that came out wrong. I didn't mean _us_ ," she ranted, sitting up at light-speed, her eyes wide, "I meant the city, you know?"

He frowned, shaking his head. "Not really, no."

"I mean, without Hawk Moth and his Akuma attacks, we don't see Ladybug and Chat Noir much anymore and I'm just kinda bummed there isn't any action and–"

Nino relaxed, sighing in relief. " _Oh_."

She playfully slapped his shoulder. "How could I ever get bored of you, baby?"

"I was wondering the same thing, actually. The thought just didn't compute," he answered, grinning at her amused expression. "I'm too awesome."

Alya smiled fondly. "That you are."

He reached out to put a strand of hair behind her left hear. She closed her eyes at the gesture, enjoying the familiarity of his touch. "This is about your blog, isn't it?"

Biting her lip, Alya sighed through her nose. "Yeah."

"It might not be over, you know?" He reminded her, softly caressing her cheek. "They're still around, somewhere."

She nodded, looking at their entwined fingers. "I know, but it's just not the same."

"Change isn't necessarily bad," He said. "We're safer, now."

"Yeah but–" She started, but couldn't get the words out. "Yeah."

Not sure how to bring her moral back up, he brought her closer to him and kissed her cheek. Smiling again, she sneaked her fingers through his short hair as he left a small trail of butterfly kisses down her neck. He brought his forehead to hers and winked. "You're still the best reporter to me."

Alya smirked. "Of course I am."

She just needed one little attack to prove it.

* * *

Chloé despised school.

"Darling, explain this please."

The girl looked at the piece of paper in her father's hand, confused. She reached out to take it, but he slammed it back down on his large desk. The coffee in his 'Dad of the Year' mug nearly spilled from the impact.

Scowling, she brought her hands back on her hips. "How am I supposed to know what's wrong if you don't show me?"

André Bourgeois sent her a warning look and the young blonde faltered. "I got an email from your science teacher."

"Madame Mendeleiev?"

He nodded. "You have been hiding your marks from me, Chloé."

Her eyes widened. She'd completely forgotten to tell him how bad she'd failed the last three biology tests – oops. Knowing her phone's life was on the line, she made for the best beaten-puppy face she could. "I'm so sorry, daddy, I should have told you earlier."

His eyes hardened. "You will be sorry, if you don't get an eighty percent on the next one."

Chloé blinked. " _Excuse_ me?"

"Madame Mendeleiev said that she's giving you one last chance," He explained, taking a sip of his coffee. "but if you fail, you're not graduating."

"But–"

He held up his hand. "But nothing. Either you get eighty percent, or you fail. Simple as that."

Chloé couldn't believe it. How could they make her repeat her year just for a stupid biology class? In fact, how could her father let them decide whether she would graduate or not? What in the name of sanity had happened to him?

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Find me a private teacher, then."

"Oh, _no_. You didn't tell me you had difficulties understanding biology, so I'm guessing that you didn't want my help, correct?"

She shook her head, not liking where this was going. "No, I–"

"So, naturally, you are perfectly okay with dealing with this on your own, correct?"

"Daddy, please, I–"

" _Correct_?"

She gulped. "Yes, daddy."

"Perfect. Now, if you don't mind, darling, I have to prepare a meeting with my campaign manager."

Cursing her bad luck, Chloé walked towards the door of her father's office, wondering how she was going to get herself out of that one. There was no way that he wasn't going to help her. He couldn't just leave her to cope on her own, just like that. No warning. No nothing. Had she known how bad the situation would become, she probably wouldn't have asked Sabrina to do her biology homework in her place.

As her hand touched the door handle, the Mayor called her name once more. She turned slowly, trying hard not to show him how annoyed she was. His expression was stern when he said, "it's time you grew up."

Chloé also hated her science teacher.

* * *

Nathanaël loathed life.

He tightened his hold on his fork, his turquoise eyes focused on anything but his mother's face. He stabbed it into his food, but couldn't find the will to bring it to his mouth. He wasn't hungry, anymore. He just wanted away from the kitchen table. Away from the house. Away from everything.

"Don't play with your food, Nathanaël." Said Amandine Kurtzberg, her voice firm.

The red-head sighed, dropping his fork next to his plate. "Sorry."

The woman's expression softened a bit. "Sweetheart, you know you can talk to me."

He repressed his urge to scoff. Instead, he grabbed the napkin that rested on his knees and wiped at his mouth. When he didn't answer, she reached out and took his left hand in hers. "Nate."

"What is there to talk about?" He asked, his voice close to a faint whisper.

Amandine squeezed his hand. "You could tell me what I could do to help you."

"There is nothing you _can_ do, mom. The art school is too expensive for us, I get it. I'll get over it," He said, his voice breaking a bit without him meaning to. "I just need _time_."

Amandine nodded, feeling tears prickle at her eyes. "I'm really sorry, sweetheart, if I could–"

"Can we talk about something else?" He asked, not sure to be able to control his own tears if they didn't stop. "Please?"

His mother retracted her hand slowly. "Yes. Yes, of course. Anything darling."

Nathanaël looked up for the first time, and regretted it instantly. There was nothing worse than to see his own mother cry because of him. She was trying to hide it, but that made it somehow worse. He knew that he wasn't being very fair to her, but he couldn't help it. He was angry that he couldn't do the _one_ thing he truly loved. Without art, he was nothing. Naturally, he knew that it wasn't his mother's fault. Not at all. It was life's fault.

Life was just not fair.

He just had to deal with it.

"How was work, mom?" He wondered, making an effort to sound a bit cheerier. "How's Madame Deslauriers?"

Amandine smiled. "She asked about you, actually."

That genuinely surprised him. "She did?"

"You made quite the impression at the retirement home, you know?"

"But–" He started, feeling his cheeks blush. "I just sat there and… listened."

She shrugged. "She thought you were quite the charmer."

"Me?"

"Do I have another charming son?" She laughed, looking around playfully. "Where?"

The young boy joined in, turning his head to look into the living room. "You could have told me I had a brother."

" _Details_."

Nathanaël hated life, but thanked the heavens he had someone like his mother in it.

* * *

"Well played, Adrien," Said Plagg, resting on the boy's shoulder. "They'll never let you take camembert from the kitchen now."

Adrien rolled his eyes, his hands digging into his back pockets. "Thanks for the support."

The Kwami gasped, feeling dramatic. "What if they don't ever let you in the kitchen at all?"

"We'll starve to death."

Plagg hid his face in his little paws. "How tragic."

Trying to repress a grin, Adrien abruptly stopped in his tracks. "Or worse, you'll have to eat gouda cheese."

Plagg's eyes widened. " _Dutch_ cheese?"

A sad nod.

"What have I done to _deserve_ this?"

The young boy laughed for the first time that day. "Bad karma?"

"I've been an exemplary Kwami this past week."

"You barely did anything but sleep this past week," Adrien pointed out. "Sleep and annoy me."

Plagg feigned an offended expression. "If I annoy you that much, you could take that ring off, you know."

Adrien sobered up instantly. "Not happening."

The little cat jumped from his shoulder and flew in front of his face, a smile playing at his lips. "Good, I don't want to leave either."

The boy returned the smile. "Glad we agree on something."

"We should also agree on our destination," Said Plagg, looking around. "Where are we going?"

Adrien shrugged, realizing that he hadn't planned on going anywhere in particular. He'd just wanted to get away from that park. He looked at the houses surrounding them, just then noticing how familiar they looked. He'd been here before. "I'm not sure."

Plagg sniffed the air and sent an unimpressed look his way. "I'm not stupid, you know."

Confused, the boy started walking down the street, wondering what his Kwami was talking about. He'd barely taken three steps forward when the sent hit him. A delicious scent of bread and pastries overwhelmed his nose, automatically making him walk backwards. " _Oh_."

He hadn't realized that his feet had taken him to Marinette's. Gulping, he ignored Plagg's knowing look and changed directions, albeit a bit reluctantly.

"We _could_ pay her a visit, if you want." Plagg said.

Adrien raised a surprised eyebrow. "Weren't you the one to tell me I _shouldn't_?"

"Well, yes," said the Kwami, scratching his left ear nonchalantly. "But we haven't been there in a while."

"What happened to the whole visiting-your-classmates-as-Chat-Noir-might-compromise-your-secret-identity thing?"

"It's still true."

"But?"

A beat.

"She might have camembert?"

Adrien smirked. "You're unbelievable."

"Unbelievingly hungry."

"Does that mean no transformation or are you just being a drama queen."

"I am _no_ drama queen."

Adrien laughed. "Sure you're not."

Making sure that no unwanted eyes would witness his transformation, the young seventeen-year-old boy walked into a dark alley adjacent to the main street. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"Only if you promise not to stay too long."

Adrien glanced at his friend. "What is _too long_?"

"Long enough to make Nathalie freak out and call the police?"

His eyes widened. His heart rate sped up as he went through his jacket's pockets to search for his phone. An unpleasant chill went through his spine when he realized he'd left it with The Gorilla. Grimacing, he glanced at Plagg – who looked just as worried. "Any idea what time it is?"

The Kwami gulped. "Time to die?"

"I'm serious."

Plagg flew up, trying to get a church in sight. When he did, his gasp confirmed Adrien's fears. "Nearly eleven."

He'd left more than an hour ago.

"Plagg, we have to hurry."

The Kwami nodded eagerly. "They actually might ban you from the kitchen."

"That's really what you're worried about?" asked the boy, rolling his eyes. "As if I wouldn't feed you."

Plagg placed himself right in front of Adrien's green eyes. "It's not _me_ I'm worried about, it's _you_."

"I have nothing to fear," He answered, trying for a smile. "Hopefully."

"You got grounded for a _month_ last time you came home late," He pointed out, grimacing. "And you hadn't run away."

Adrien winced. "This really doesn't look too good, uh?"

"Nope."

"Well, it's too late now. Let's just go home and hope for the best."

The Kwami sighed. "And prepare for the worst."

"Plagg, claws out."

* * *

Nino Lahiffe hated Gabriel Agreste.

"He did _what_?!"

Adrien flinched, not mentally prepared for his best friend's outburst. "Not so loud!"

Madame Mendeleiev snapped her head to their side of the classroom, her glare probably cold enough to rival with Natalie, herself. Both boys straightened in their seats, trying to avoid eye-contact with her. "Anything you'd like to share?"

They both shook their heads, gulping.

"I didn't think so."

She turned back to the blackboard and went back to writing whatever she'd been writing before. (If they'd been focused, they would have noticed that she was giving them important clues for their final exam.) Adrien tried to concentrate on the subject she was teaching, but Nino's constant grumbling was slowly driving him mad. "He can't do that."

The blonde student sighed. "He can, and he did."

"You'll miss Alya's birthday party!" Nino shout-whispered.

Someone dropped their pen behind them. " _What_?"

Adrien flinched again. "Nothing."

Alya looked crest-fallen. "What does he mean by you'll miss my birthday party?"

He opened his mouth to explain – although he _really_ didn't feel like explaining – but one pointed look from Marinette and he turned back around. Madame Mendeleiev was walking to their desk, a particularly annoyed expression twisting her features. "How many times do I have to repeat myself?"

Nino tried to speak, but she raised her hand, instantly shutting him up. "Rhetorical question, Monsieur Lahiffe."

"They were helping me, Madame."

The teacher looked up to the pig-tailed girl, frowning. "Oh, really? You perfectly know that I expect you to ask _me_ your questions, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, not your classmates."

Marinette's eyes widened, not sure what to say in order to get all three of them out of this mess. "Yes, of course, but –"

"We didn't want to disturb you, Madame Mendeleiev." Explained Alya, always there to save their asses.

Mendeleiev raised an eyebrow. " _You_ , Mademoiselle Césaire?"

Nino tried not to slam his head on his desk. His girlfriend excelled in this class – she never needed help. This wasn't going well, he needed to do something. Quick. "Madame?"

"What?" She barked.

Think of something. Think of something. "I don't feel well."

The teacher frowned, not having expected _that_. "You what?"

Nino grabbed his belly, mimicking bad stomach cramps. "I think I'm going to–"

He got up from his seat and made a b-line towards the door – trying extremely hard not to burst out laughing at Chloé's disgusted face – and slammed it on his way out. For a tense couple seconds, nobody spoke, all their eyes resting on Mendeleiev's bewildered face. She eventually sent a warry look Adrien's way. "Perhaps you should go check on your friend?"

The young boy stood up, but so did the two girls sitting behind him. Madame Mendeleiev seemed close to a mental breakdown. "What are _you_ two doing?"

Marinette tried not to seem sheepish. "Nino is our friend, too."

"Actually, he's my boyfriend so if there's one person who should check up on him, it's _me_." Stated Alya, putting her hands on her hips.

All three of them _really_ wanted out.

Adrien crossed his arms playfully, ready to fight them on this. "I'm his best friend."

"I'm his girlfriend."

"I'm going to sit back down." Whispered Marinette, painfully aware that she stood no chance.

"Could you carry him to the infirmary?"

"Are _you_ the one who'll have to kiss him after he puked?"

Adrien grimaced. "Point taken."

Alya punched the air and without another word, escaped Mendeleiev's wrath by running out the door, straight into her waiting boyfriend's arms. They tried to keep their laughter in check as they made their way to the toilets.

Adrien was about to sit back down when Mendeleiev stopped him, already on her way to her own desk. "Why don't you go help Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng? _Discreetly_."

The boy nodded and tried to hide a smile as he took Alya's seat next to Marinette. She was trying really hard – but was miserably failing – not to smile, either. He took a quick look at the sheet in front of her and frowned. "Do you even need help?" (Princess nearly rolled off his tongue.)

Marinette shrugged. "Not really. Do you even know what she's talking about?"

Adrien scratched his head. "Not really."

"What were you two talking about, anyway?"

His smile fell, and she backtracked a bit. "I'm sorry– I-I didn't mean to pry– I should have–"

"It's fine, Marinette," Adrien said, forcing a smile on his lips to reassure her. (It didn't.) "I got grounded yesterday."

She frowned. "Oh."

He nodded, sighing. "Yeah."

"For how long?"

"Forever?"

Her eyes widened. "That long? What did you do?" (It was out before she could stop herself.)

"I got home late."

Her frown deepened. "Last time, you only got grounded for a month."

Adrien raised an amused eyebrow. "You remember?"

"W-well, N-Nino was very angry about it."

"Right, yeah. Alya had to stop him from phoning my father, at some point."

"More than once, actually."

He snickered. "Really?"

"Yeah, it was kinda funny."

"I wish I'd been there."

Marinette resisted the urge to put her hand on his shoulder, not wanting to make things awkward. "I'm sorry, Adrien."

He smiled, making her melt a bit inside. "You have nothing to be sorry about. My father is how he is."

"I take it there's nothing we can do?"

Adrien thought about it for a moment. "Hope for an Akuma attack?" He should have thought more.

Her eyes widened and his followed suit. "God, that's a horrible thing to say, I'm sorry. I just meant that if there were an attack, I wouldn't have to go to the photoshoot my father organized for me."

Marinette nodded but didn't seem any less weirded out about what he said. (He could hear Plagg snicker in his pocket.) "Don't you like photoshoots anymore?"

He shrugged. "Too much is too much, I guess."

The young girl wanted to say something comforting, something that would cheer him up, but the words wouldn't form in her brain. Instead, she was creepily staring at his sad face, unable to look away. (She could hear Tikki snicker in her pocket.)

A blush crept up his neck. "Marinette?"

Before she could say anything – and probably embarrass herself further – the door slammed open and Nino came sprinting in. "Alya already left."

Madame Mendeleiev looked ready to burst. "Monsieur Lahiffe, what is the meaning of th–"

"Hawk Moth is back."

Right on cue, a loud explosion made the room tremble. A couple people screamed – Mendeleiev included – but Adrien was out of his seat in a heartbeat. "Where?"

"Alya said she was going to the bridge and –"

"But that's near my parent's bakery!" Marinette shrieked, already on her way to the door.

Nino grabbed her arm. "I don't think you should go."

Adrien nodded. "Me neither."

"I have to warn–"

"There are two of them."

Both Adrien and Marinette blinked. " _Two_?"

Nino nodded.

"And they're fighting _each_ _other_."

* * *

 **Author's note:** I hope you liked this first chapter, and thank you **Vilchen** and **Junior VB** for reviewing, that was really nice of you.


	3. Chapter Two - Nostalgia

**Author's note:** Hello there!

Here's chapter two with a bit of action going on – a bit more realistic action, actually. You know, with _real_ danger and fear? Let's move things a bit.

Also, I would like to thank **Vilchen** and **sakurapris** and **BeautifulShadow14** for reviewing my last chapter, I really _really_ _really_ appreciate it. I'm glad you like my take on everyone, and I hope I won't disappoint! Thank you.

 **Disclaimer:** Still not mine, I promise.

* * *

 **Chapter Two - Nostalgia**

* * *

Alya hadn't felt _this_ excited in months.

She held her phone tight in her hand, ready to hit the record button at any given moment. She'd already posted a message on her Ladyblog, assuring her fans that she was on her way. Her heart was hammering against her ribcage, but the soft ache it caused made her feel somewhat nostalgic. All those times she'd had to run through half of Paris to catch a glimpse of her favourite super-heroine, or when she'd had to sprint to safety because things were getting too dangerous for her were making her eager for what was to come.

The young girl grinned. She'd missed this feeling – the adrenaline.

She ignored the bewildered stares of the people running away from the action, their terrified screams urging her to go faster. If she missed Ladybug's entrance, she would never forgive herself. After endless months of _nothing,_ the city was finally becoming interesting again.

Once the burning in her lungs became too much, she gradually slowed to a stop, gasping for air. She probably shouldn't have neglected her cardio training. She braced her back against a nearby wall and took a look at her phone. Despite the difficulty to breathe, Alya managed a grin. More than two-hundred people had reacted to her post, leaving tons of comments with questions and reactions.

She'd been through the first five when a particularly loud scream echoed in the street adjacent to where she was resting. She hesitated for a moment, thinking that it probably wasn't a clever idea to go there, but curiosity got the best of her. She owed it to her followers. They wanted to know what was happening and she did, too. After a couple deep breaths and a quick hair adjustment, she raised the device in front of her face and hit the record button. "Good morning, Ladybloggers! Are you ready to find out what's going on? Cause I am! Stay connected!"

It took her about three minutes to realize that she was in fact _not_ _ready_ to see what was beyond the street corner.

No one had been.

* * *

Marinette should have known something like this would happen.

She took a sharp left, swiftly walking down the narrow alley that led to her parents' bakery. She looked around for a moment, making sure that no unwanted eyes would catch her and opened her old pink school bag. "Explain."

Her Kwami shot out of the front pocket, a worried expression twisting her usually soft features. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, _you don't know_?" Marinette asked, putting her hands on her hips.

Tikki frowned, rubbing her head. "This has never happened before."

"Ever?" The girl said, surprised. "Never ever?"

"Never ever."

"How?"

The Kwami shook her head. "I have no idea. This shouldn't be _possible_. Akumas are very difficult to create in the first place, let alone control. I might have underestimated Hawkmoth."

The mention of his name made Marinette clench her fists. He'd vanished months ago, taking all his chaos with him. She'd expected him to come back with a couple tricks up his sleeve, but she had never thought about having to fight two Akumatized people at the same time. "I have to warn Chat."

Tikki flew up to her friend's shoulder. "You think he doesn't know?"

"He's a cat. He's probably sleeping right now."

Tikki considered it for a second. "Plagg slept through the destruction of Lyon once."

" _What_?"

"Long story. Let's save Paris first."

Marinette nodded, albeit a bit confused. "Yeah, you're right. Let's do this."

This wasn't the moment to second guess things. Hawkmoth was back, but that didn't mean that he was invincible. With Chat Noir's help – she really hoped he wasn't sleeping – they would defeat that monster once and for all. Nothing could beat them when they were together as a team. There was no need for panic. Panicking was for people who weren't Ladybug. She was Ladybug. She was strong and calm and –

"Marinette?"

The girl nearly jumped. "Yes, Tikki?"

"Are you alright?"

"Fine. Perfectly fine. I'm the epitome of fine."

The Kwami smiled knowingly. "It's been a while since you've been this nervous about being Ladybug."

A soft sigh escaped Marinette's lips. "It's been so long."

"You were great then, you'll be even better now."

She wasn't so sure about that, but the people of Paris needed her. With one final look around her, she glanced at her partner. "Tikki?"

"Yes, Marinette?"

A beat.

"Spots on."

* * *

Nathanaël was ready to murder someone.

"Stay _calm_." Shrieked Madame Mendeleiev, her face the colour of his hair. "And _sit_ down."

Chloé sent her one of her famous my-father-will-hear-about-this looks, pursing her lips. If there was one thing that still surprised Nathanaël, it was that people still genuinely believed they could win an argument against Chloé Bourgeois. "Why?!"

The teacher sighed heavily, glaring at the girl in front of her with exasperation. "To keep you _safe_. You are under the responsibility of the school, we can't have you running around Paris when the cities in danger."

Chloé scoffed. "Is that why you let Adrikins leave?!"

Nathanaël hated to admit it, but she had a point.

"I didn't let them leave," Barked Mendeleiev, "they left _without_ authorisation."

"Does it look like I care!?"

Nathanaël had to consciously stop himself from slamming his head against the desk. Both their voices were so loud and annoying, it was starting to give him a headache. He tried to shut them out by bringing his attention to the other students. Rose was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, shaking in the arms of Juleka. Thank god for her, he didn't know if he'd survive another person screaming. The boys were looking through the window, probably hoping to catch a glimpse of the action. How they were still not used to this, Nathanaël would never understand.

They'd been through this a hundred times. Granted, not in the last few months – but still. Some random person in Paris gets Akumatized, that person transforms into a villain, they wreak havoc until Ladybug and Chat Noir arrive and save the day.

Nothing unusual there.

Mendeleiev abruptly stood from her seat, her chair slamming into the wall behind her. "For the last time, Mademoiselle Bourgeois, _sit_ _down_!"

She'd screamed that so forcefully it even made him jump. Chloé blinked a couple times, clearly not used to being yelled at. It took a solid five seconds before she turned on her heels and heading towards her desk. Everyone – including him – was shell-shocked.

Chloé was doing as told.

Perhaps the world was _really_ going to end.

An uncomfortable silence set in the room, until Mylène's soft voice was heard at the back. "Do you think they'll save us?"

Ivan grinned reassuringly. "You're not scared, are you?"

Mylène wasn't ready to smile. "But there are two villains this time, right?"

"They're Ladybug and Chat Noir."

"I know but –"

Chloé groaned. " _Oh_ my god, Mylène, shut up."

"Hey." Warned Ivan, putting a protective arm around his girlfriend. "Leave her alone."

"Then she better stop her whining because it's getting on my nerves."

Nathanaël sighed through his nose. That was rich coming from her. Ivan seemed to be ready to fight her, but a loud crashing noise caught their attention. The red-head turned to look through the window, suddenly curious. He couldn't see much, the tall houses next to the school obstructing his view, but what he could see was that what Nino had said was true.

Two villains were flying over the city, fighting each other.

"Okay, I'm done," declared Chloé, grabbing her purse and going for the door, "I'm not staying here."

Mendeleiev opened her mouth to speak, but Kim's voice stopped her. "Me too. This is epic! I wanna see this."

More and more people started to agree as they grabbed their stuff, completely ignoring Mendeleiev's threats to put everyone in detention. After a second of hesitation – he didn't like going to detention – he decided that he wanted to go home early.

The room started to empty itself slowly, students leaving one after the other. Some still seemed on the fence about it, but were still moving towards the exit.

Nathanaël was half-way to the door when a car came crushing through the windows, destroying everything in its path.

The science classroom was on the _second_ _floor_.

* * *

Chat Noir had been waiting for this very moment for months.

There she was, standing at the edge of a roof, the wind whisking through her silky hair. He couldn't see her face, but he _knew_ she was mapping the streets, looking for possible exits roots. He _knew_ her deep blue eyes were looking at Paris with determination, ready for anything thrown her way.

He would follow her anywhere. He'd realized that a very long time ago.

Chat silently walked towards her. He'd pictured this moment a thousand times before. The day he would get to fight on Ladybug's side once more. Seeing her there, with her back turned to him, made his heart beat in anticipation. How would she react once she would see him? Would she notice that he grew taller? Would she be happy? Disappointed? Indifferent? Doubt found its way through his mind, making his heart beat faster.

Why was he so nervous? This was Ladybug. His partner. The one person he trusted with his life. Why would she ever–

"How long are you just going to stand there, kitten?"

His head snapped up, his green eyes immediately meeting her blue ones. She was smiling, and he felt like his knees were going to give out. He had missed this feeling. He had missed her. "I'm sorry, My Lady, I was just admiring you from afar."

She blushed. "It's nice to see you too, Chat."

"Are you blushing?" He asked, squinting playfully, "I thought my compliments weren't doing that anymore."

She shrugged, rolling her eyes. "It's been a while, I'll get used to it again."

"It's been too long."

He hadn't meant to say it that way, with his voice wavering a little bit. In fact, he hadn't meant to say that at all. The words were completely true, but he didn't really want her to know how much he'd been dreaming of seeing her again. Surprisingly, she put her small hand on his shoulder, a sad smile tugging at her lips. "Way too long."

Chat grinned, a warm feeling spreading through his body. "So, what's the plan?"

Her eyes widened for the briefest second before she turned back towards the edge of the roof. "I'm not sure. This hasn't happened before."

"Two this time, uh?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Well, that's great," Chat exclaimed, crouching next to her, "that makes one villain for you and one villain for me."

Ladybug slapped him on the back of his head. "They could be dangerous, you know?"

"Me-ouch," he whined, trying to rub the soft pain away, "fine, I'll let you take on both, if you want."

He managed to dodge the second hit. "This isn't a joke, Chat."

"I know, I know. So, what's the plan?"

"First, we should probably go to them to assess the situation. They might be dangerous, but maybe not, I don't know. In fact, we don't know anything. What if it isn't even Hawkmoth?"

Chat narrowed his eyes. "I guess we'll find that out soon enough."

Ladybug extended her hand towards him, smiling. "Are you ready for this, kitten?"

"After you, My Lady."

* * *

Nino had never witnessed this much chaos before.

People were screaming all around him, their eyes focused on the cars flying through the air. Some hit other cars. Some hit houses. Some hit people. The only sane thing to do was to run as far away as possible – out of range.

So why in the name of sanity had Alya walked right into that mess?

He tried to call her again, his hands trembling. He shouldn't have let her go. He should have spoken up. He should have made her understand that it was too dangerous for anyone. (Should should should.) But he hadn't.

"Come on, come on," Nino whispered, his voice harsh, "pick up, pick up."

She didn't.

"No, no, no, no, no, _no_."

He tapped on her Ladyblog app, biting his lower lip nearly hard enough to cause it to bleed. He just about threw his phone on the ground when he realized that she was filming the whole thing. The sound was bad, but the image was clear. There they were. Paris' heroes: Ladybug and Chat Noir, fighting the enemy. Alya turned the camera just a bit so that her face was in the frame.

She was smiling.

Nino was fuming.

He'd never really liked seeing her put herself in danger like that. When they'd started dating a couple years ago, he'd admired her courage. He didn't think himself a coward, but he'd never been as brave as Alya Césaire. As time passed, he'd realized that her bravery was slowly turning to downright recklessness. He'd promised himself that since she wasn't going to be careful, he would protect her.

He pocketed his phone angrily. There was nothing he could do. She'd managed to get on the scene before the whole car action had started, and from what the video showed, she was high enough to avoid them. Plus, Ladybug and Chat Noir were both there. By the time he would get there, he would either be hit by a flying car, or way too late. There was no point.

With a sigh, he brought out his phone again and texted her to call him back as soon as possible. Alya was a strong girl, she would be alright. She always came out of these catastrophes with a smile.

She would be fine.

Nino noticed an old man struggling to walk amongst the sea of panicking people. Without second thoughts, he ran into the crowd and slung the man's arm around his own shoulders. "Are you alright, Monsieur?"

The elderly man smiled at him. "Thank you, son."

"Let's get ourselves out of here, yeah?"

Alya would be alright.

* * *

Chloé had witnessed the whole thing.

She'd been far enough not to be hit by any rubble, but close enough to see the Renault Megan hit the back of the class like a cannonball. She could hear Sabrina screaming next to her, but her brain wasn't processing things fast enough. Her eyes were focused on the person next to the door.

Nathanaël Kurtzberg must have been the luckiest bastard in Paris.

He was just standing there, his arms limp against his body, looking at the car that had just destroyed the room. His eyes were wide with fear and disbelief. He barely reacted when Madame Mendeleiev materialized next to him and grabbed his shoulders. "Nathanaël? Nathanaël! Are you alright?"

He didn't answer immediately. The teacher turned towards the other students. "Are you all here? Tell me everyone is here."

Chloé looked around for a moment, but couldn't have counted everyone if she'd wanted to. Her vision was slowly starting to blur. She could still see where her desk had been. Where she would have been. Where she should have been.

Had this happened two minutes before, she would be _dead_.

"Everyone's here, Madame," someone answered.

Mendeleiev sighed in relief. "Thank god. Everyone is safe. Thank god."

"Thank Chloé," Exclaimed Sabrina, hugging the blonde girl from behind. "You saved our lives."

Other classmates started thanking her, hugging her, praising her. She would be lying if she said that she didn't like the positive attention, but she didn't exactly understand it. She had just left the room.

But if she hadn't done that, everyone would have died.

She would have died.

* * *

Chat Noir had never fought such a strong Akuma before.

The villain Ladybug was fighting had called himself the Garagiste and appeared to be a car salesman. He hadn't been the one throwing the cars around, however. That had been the other villain, who had stayed surprisingly silent during their whole encounter. He hadn't given himself a name, nor had he answered Ladybug's questions. He wasn't wearing any odd villain suit either, like the Garagiste was. The only abnormal thing about him was that he was flying and that his eyes were glowing.

They were glowing gold.

Chat dodged another car, avoiding being crushed by a Mini Cooper this time. "People worked hard for this, you know?"

His answer was a Maserati.

The hero didn't know how long he would be able to keep this up. That guy was way faster than any other foe he had ever faced – and that was saying something. There had been a couple close-calls before.

This enemy was in a whole other league.

He threw another car at him, but the machine got deflected by Ladybug's yoyo. He turned his attention to her, his hand already doing a thumbs-up in thanks, but she wasn't looking at him. She was looking at the Mercedes going straight towards a mother and her child. Instinctively, Chat threw himself in front of them. " _Cataclysm_!"

He managed to touch the car in time to save the family, but not fast enough to save his arm. As the car disintegrated, he felt his shoulder dislocate with a sickening _pop_ , making his stomach churn.

He heard his ring beep and felt even worse. Everything was going so fast. He wouldn't be able to keep fighting like this, but he couldn't let Ladybug fight on her own. He couldn't just leave her. He couldn't just–

"Chat noir! Watch out!"

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thanks again for reading!


	4. Chapter Three - Last-Minute Healing

**Author's Note:** Hi there!

Here's the third chapter. This one will be focusing on Marinette, Adrien and Alya. Tell me what you think!

Thank you _very_ much to **Junior VB** and **Wynterasiuuki** for reviewing my last chapter. That was very nice of you, thank you so so so so so much. Your reviews keep me alive.

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing, as usual.

* * *

 **Chapter Three – Last-Minute Healing**

* * *

If there was one thing Marinette had learned during her years as Ladybug, it was this: don't wait, _act_.

That sort of thinking had helped her out of sticky situations countless of times, as a heroin but also as herself. Quite practical when you had a girl like Chloé Bourgeois in your class, or when you were the clumsiest person alive. However, that sort of thinking was also _extremely_ dangerous. Case in point, thinking that her yoyo would stop a flying car from crushing her partner. She'd hoped to slow it down, but had only succeeded in getting herself propelled into a nearby building.

As her body slid down the wall, she heard Chat Noir's anguished shout of her name and smiled. He was alive. He'd gotten out of the way in time. "Thank god."

Her vision was starting to blur and for a brief moment, she wondered if she was going to make it. That hit could have cause a concussion, or perhaps worse. She tried to stand up, her legs wobbling as she moved, using the brick wall to hold herself up. Her mouth tasted of iron – she had probably bitten her tongue at some point.

"Ladybug?"

That voice. It was familiar. It wasn't Chat's, but she knew it. She turned her head to look, but the more she moved, the worse the pain got. She winced and felt her body fall forward, unable to do anything about it. She braced herself for impact – it never came. Instead, she felt soft arms grabbing her shoulders. "Ladybug! Are you okay?"

The heroin wouldn't have been able to answer had she wanted to.

"Its me," said the voice, dragging Ladybug's body inside the building, "Alya, remember me?"

Alya. Alya was here. What _was_ she doing here? She wasn't supposed to be there. It was too dangerous. She had to leave. She had to leave now. "Alya…"

"Yes, yes! Alya!" The red-head said, helping the girl to sit. "You're safe here. They didn't see us."

They wouldn't be safe long, she knew, but she wasn't in any state to go out fighting yet. She needed rest. She needed to sleep for a minute. If she could just close her–

A sharp slap in the face made her jump. "Hey! Don't close your eyes! You have to stay awake!"

"I need–"

"What? What do you need? What can I do?"

What could she do? What could help her? If she had a concussion, there was nothing she could do. She'd have to go the hospital, like all the other Parisians who'd been attacked by the Akumatized. The thing was: if she didn't do something against them, there might not be a hospital left to go to.

There had to be something. She couldn't just do _nothing_.

"Ladybug?"

She had to do something.

"Ladybug?!"

Anything.

" _Ladybug_? What are you doing?"

Her vision was getting better, but her head was still swimming a bit. She gestured for her friend to help her up. Alya raised an eyebrow, but didn't question her. She'd have to thank her later. She took a deep breath and raised her hand in the air, her voice rough when she yelled "Lucky charm!"

Never in a million years had she expected tiny plastic car-keys to save her life.

* * *

Alya had never felt _this_ helpless in years.

She watched with worried eyes as her favourite heroin struggled to even stand, her injuries worse than she had ever seen before. Ladybug was looking at the small object in her hands, her brows knitted together in concentration.

"Uh, Ladybug?"

She raised her hand, gesturing for Alya to shut up. "Wait."

The red-haired girl sighed, feeling her hands starting to shake. She'd seen the car going towards that mother and her child. She had seen Chat Noir leaping in front of them to save their lives. She'd winced when she'd seen his shoulder go further back that it was ever meant to. She'd noticed the second car flying towards him before Ladybug had and had tried to warn him. Everything else had gone so fast, she wasn't exactly sure what had happened. Had Chat Noir been able to move out of the way? She didn't know.

She had to know. She had to help.

Alya ran up to the closest window – where she'd stayed the past few minutes – and crossed her fingers. _Please let there be no body. Please let there be no body. Please let there be no–_

" _Wow_."

The Garagiste was lying on the ground, probably unconscious, with a furious Chat Noir standing above him. With his good arm, he grabbed the villain's collar and said something to him. She tried to read his lips, but Ladybug grabbed her shoulder forcefully. "You need to get out of here."

"What?"

Ladybug tightened her grip. "You have to _leave_."

"What? I can help you! I can–" Alya stuttered. She didn't want to abandon her.

"I need you to get me cookies."

Alya stopped struggling. "You need _what?_ "

"Cookies. Now. _Please_."

She hesitated for a moment. Ladybug did seem to feel better, but to ask her to find some cookies seemed completely bonkers. Why the hell would she want cookies in this situation? The sugar, maybe? If she needed sugar she could get–

"Alya," Ladybug pleaded, looking her straight in the eyes, "I'm going to de-transform, but I have to go back out there. I need those cookies."

She didn't understand – she really didn't – but in that moment, she decided not to question her, and she ran for the stairs, leaving the heroin in the lobby. This building was an apartment building. Lots of kitchens. But how was she going to get in? Once on the first floor, she hammered her fists on the first door on the left, hoping that the residents were still there. It took a couple seconds, but someone opened. "Yes, dear?"

An old lady. That was good. Old people had cookies, right? "Excuse me, Madame, but do you happen to have cookies?"

The woman blinked. "Cookies?"

"Yes."

"Here?"

" _Yes_."

"Of course, darling," she said, smiling. "I baked some yesterday."

Alya wanted to punch the air, but she hadn't won yet. "Could you give some to me, please? It's an emergency."

"What sort of emergency?"

"My friend is diabetic, and she needs sugar, but she doesn't eat anything except cookies."

The old lady nodded. "Diabetic? What is that?"

What part in 'it's an emergency' hadn't she understood. "I can't explain it to you, Madame, but I really have to hurry."

"Oh, naturally," she said, before disappearing into her apartment.

It took her about two minutes to go into her kitchen, grab the cookie jar and come back to the door, but to Alya? It had felt like _centuries_. "Please, please, hurry. Please, please, hurry."

"Here you go, child," said the woman, smiling. "What was your name again?"

Alya took the jar. "Thank you so much! My name is Alya Césaire."

"It's nice to meet you, Alya. My name is Gabriella."

"Thank you very much, Madame Gabriella."

The woman grinned. "Now go, little one. Don't keep Tikki waiting."

She closed the door before Alya could question who _Tikki_ was. The woman's accent hadn't been very French. Perhaps _Tikki_ meant something in the language she spoke? Alya didn't know.

She ran back down the stairs and tried to open the door, but someone was blocking the knob. She tried to force it, but to no avail. "What–"

"Do you have the cookies, Alya?"

"I– yes, I do!"

She heard a relieved sigh. "Alright. Leave them in front of the door and go up the building. The higher you are, the safer."

"But–"

"Please, Alya. I have no more time to waste. You saved my life, now let me save Paris."

Alya didn't want to leave, but Ladybug was right. This needed to end – quickly. "Okay, you're right. Good luck, Ladybug! I'm counting on you."

She put the jar on the ground and ran back up the stairs, not looking back. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and prepared to film the rest of this fight.

Because something told her it would be _epic._

* * *

Chat Noir had scarcely been this angry.

It took a lot of self-control not to punch the Garagiste's face in. He had to remind himself that beneath his silly costume was a scared man with no control over his actions. He had to remind himself that he wasn't the _real_ threat. So instead, he grabbed his collar and yanked him up, his face inches from his. "Hawkmoth."

 _Beep_.

A purple butterfly appeared on the man's face. "Grab his Miraculous, now!"

The Garagiste shook his head violently. "No! No, I don't want to do this anymore. Leave me alone."

"Hawkmoth," said the hero, grinding his teeth. "Stop this madness. Call back your Akumas."

This wasn't a very good plan, he knew, but as Ladybug wasn't around – he had to stop himself from thinking about that, she was fine – he couldn't cleanse it. "Can't defeat him on your own, Chat Noir? How _pathetic_."

Chat's jaw twitched. He opened his mouth to answer but the purple butterfly disappeared. His eyes widened. "No! Hawkmoth you little–"

"Please don't hurt me," begged the man, hiding his face with his hands. "I'm sorry."

For a moment, Chat forgot his shoulder hurt like hell and tried to use it to grab his baton. He had to bite his lower lip to keep from _screaming_. "What did Hawkmoth tell you?"

"He just told me to find you and steal your Miraculouses. Nothing else I swear."

Chat frowned. "Why did he send two of you?"

The Garagiste shook his head. "He didn't! The other one attacked me the moment I became this– this– this _monster_. I don't want this anymore. Help me, _please_."

 _Beep._

" _What_?"

This didn't make any sense. One Akuma was from Hawkmoth, but not the second? How was that possible? How?

"Please, _I give up_."

The moment those words escaped the Garagiste's mouth, his costume melted off his body, leaving a sobbing car salesman behind. The little purple Akuma left the man's necklace and started flying away. Despite the confusion – and the pain – Chat moved fast enough to catch the butterfly with his right hand.

 _Beep._

He had to get out of there. He started running towards an alley, hoping that no one was watching him as he did. His shoulder was slowly killing him, making him groan in pain every step he took. He'd barely made it behind a car when his suit faded and Plagg appeared next to him. "Adrien!"

"There's camembert in my pocket."

Plagg didn't hesitate. "Are you alright?"

"No," Growled Adrien, careful not to let the Akuma escape. "I'm _really_ not."

"You'll heal. I just need to eat quickly."

Adrien frowned. "Heal? Plagg, my shoulder's dislocated. I need someone to put it back."

"It'll heal on its own, I promise. The transformation will help."

"I don't get it!"

Plagg raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think that dropping from roofs like you do doesn't have an impact on your body?"

"Aren't those thanks to the powers that come with the suit?"

"Yes, and healing fast are part of those powers."

"But I've never been healed before!"

Plagg finished his camembert, the stench making Adrien close to gagging. "You've never needed it before."

Adrien didn't understand very well, but he decided to go with it. If Plagg was saying the truth – and why would he lie, anyways – the pain would leave the moment he transformed back into Chat Noir. "We need to find Ladybug, then we have to take down the other guy."

Plagg nodded. "She's fine. I can feel it."

"I hope you're right."

"Ready?"

Adrien winced. "No, but do I have choice?"

"You always have choice, Adrien."

Did he, though? Either let the city fall, or maybe die saving it? What sort of choice was that? He found, however, that it wasn't the city he first thought of. It was Ladybug. His partner. His friend. If he didn't fight, she would have to fight alone. He knew she would never let him down, and he wouldn't either. He wouldn't let her down. He wouldn't ever.

"Claws out."

* * *

Marinette hadn't expected cookies to be her salvation.

"Hang in there, Marinette!" Said Tikki, quickly munching on the treat. "Just a bit longer."

The pig-tailed girl nodded, hiding her eyes behind her arm. Her head wasn't hurting as much, which was probably a good thing, but she wasn't sure. Her sight was still somewhat blurry, and her legs still felt like jelly. "Okay."

"You're going to be alright!"

Marinette trusted her Kwami. She nodded once more. If Tikki said she would be fine, then she would be fine.

Her mind traveled back to the beginning of the day, wondering how she had gotten herself into this mess. She'd woken up that morning thinking that the most difficult part of the day would be to finish the dress she needed to get into the school she wanted. Now, she didn't even know if the Institut Français De La Mode was still standing. On the bright side, she'd been able to see Chat Noir again. As an image of him formed itself in her mind, she felt a soft pain in her chest, as if someone was poking her heart with a stick. She _really_ hoped he was okay. What if he hadn't gotten out of the way in time? He couldn't have– that car couldn't have– there was no way–

"You have to transform, Marinette!"

She wasn't sure if she could. "But–"

" _Now_!"

"Spots on!"

Red light engulfed her body and for the briefest of moment, Marinette didn't feel _anything_. No pain, no fear, nothing. Then, suddenly, everything around became clear again. It didn't hurt to stand anymore, nor did moving her head. She was fine. At least for now. She grabbed her yoyo from her side and with one deep breath, stepped out into the chaos.

She had a villain to finish.

* * *

Alya cheered as Chat Noir's fist collided with the villain's face.

He'd suddenly materialized next to her, telling her to film as much as she could of the golden eyed man. He had then proceeded to give her an Akuma and had told her to keep it safe until he returned. As soon as she had nodded, the hero had jumped off the roof and slammed his baton right into the guy's chest, screaming something that sounded like 'payback time'.

Chat Noir tried for another punch, but the man stopped his arm before it made contact with his cheek again. Thankfully, his left shoulder seemed to have healed because he used his arm to push his enemy back by the throat. He let go of his arm and Alya saw his lips move, but couldn't hear a thing. "Shit, not now."

They seemed to be talking for a minute, Chat's voice harsh and full of anger, while the golden-eyed man's voice had seemed completely emotionless. Like a robot's, if that made any sense.

She'd been so focused on trying to read on their lips that she hadn't noticed Ladybug appear out of nowhere. She threw her yoyo his way, and it encircled his body, successfully blocking his every movement. Chat Noir turned to look at her and even from up there, Alya could see both the relief and the admiration. For a moment, they just looked at each other, like they were having a conversation just with their eyes.

Then, the screaming started.

The golden-eyed guy's mouth hung open as his scream echoed through the street. Alya's first reflex was to cover her hears, nearly letting the Akuma loose as she did so. She noticed that both Ladybug and Chat Noir had done the same. However, Chat put his stick in the man's mouth, shutting him up for a moment, while Ladybug was searching something in his pockets. She smiled when she found what she was looking for.

Car-keys.

She threw them to her partner and he raised his hand. "Cataclysm!"

The keys dissolved, and an Akuma came flying out the object. But it didn't look like the other Akumas she'd seen before.

"It's gold," Alya realized.

The two heroes seemed to be just surprised as she was. Ladybug tried to catch it, but the golden butterfly dodged every single time. Even Chat's incredible reflexes couldn't help them. It flew higher and higher, until they couldn't see it anymore. They'd been powerless to stop it.

But _how_?

Alya nearly jumped when Ladybug appeared in front of her, her hand extended. "Please tell me you still have the Akuma?"

She nodded, opening her hand to let her take it. "Yes, I kept it safe."

Chat Noir winked at her, although she knew his heart wasn't in it. "Good job, Alya. I knew I could trust you."

Ladybug didn't waste any more time. She reached for her yoyo and used it to cleanse the Akuma. Thankfully, it worked this time. All three of them watched as it flew away. "Bye-bye, little butterfly."

"You did it! I knew you would!" Alya exclaimed, but Ladybug didn't smile back.

"We have to clean this mess."

Chat Noir smirked at her. "Be my guest, My Lady."

"Very funny," she said, taking a deep breath. " _Miraculous_ _Ladybug_!"

Alya looked down the street. She'd always liked this part – watching everything go back to normal. She wondered if the cars would fly back to where they once were or if they'd just materialize back. She patiently waited, looking at the Maserati in the building in front of this one. She waited. And waited.

Nothing happened.

The city was still destroyed.

Nothing happened.

 _Nothing_.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thanks a lot for reading, it means a lot. Have a nice day/night!


	5. Chapter Four - The Aftermath

**Author's note:** Hello everybody!

So, since last chapter was focused on Alya, Adrien and Marinette, this one will be on Chloé, Nathanaël and Nino during the aftermath. I hope you'll like it.

A very special thanks to **Vilchen** and **Junior VB** for your marvellous reviews. You make my days, guys!

 **Disclaimer** : If only, mate, if only I owned this.

* * *

 **Chapter Four – The Aftermath**

* * *

 _A couple hours after the attack_

Nino had never seen the hospital this busy before.

He was leaning against the vending machine, music blasting in his ears to cover up the pained screams echoing in the hallways. Nurses were running around, trying to help as many victims as they could, but exhaustion was catching up to them. Even the receptionists were completely overwhelmed. Panicking humans had always been a problem difficult to deal with, especially during these types of attacks. He _truly_ felt bad for everyone involved.

He nearly jumped when someone put their hand on his shoulder.

One quick look at the person's face made Nino's blood run cold. The man was too pale for it to be normal and his eyes were as red as the blood splattered on his blue polo shirt. Nino could feel the hand on his shoulder tremble. He needed help – _now_. He looked around, hoping one of the nurses would notice them and save this man. "Monsieur, we need to get you to one of the–"

"No need for that, young man."

Nino nearly choked on his own spit. "But you need–"

"I need you to step away from the vending machine is what I need," He said, chuckling at the boy's bewildered stare. "I'm a bit thirsty."

Too confused to argue, Nino slowly moved away from the machine. The man smiled at him and put his money through the slot and retrieved his water bottle. He could do nothing but watch the hurt man as he drank, a frown twisting his features. "Are you sure you shouldn't ask for help?"

The man avoided the question altogether. "What's your name, kid?"

"Nino Lahiffe," He answered.

His eyebrows nearly shot through the roof. "Lahiffe? As in Doctor Francesca Lahiffe?"

It was Nino's turn to be surprised. He nodded. "Yeah, she's my mom."

"Doctor Pierre Dussart," The man said, reaching out to shake his hand. "I work with your mom."

That name did sound very familiar. His mom didn't really like to talk much about work once she was home, but she'd mentioned a couple of her co-workers a few times. Nino shook his hand, but didn't know what to say. Instead, he just smiled, hoping it was enough an answer.

"I'm guessing you're waiting for her?" Pierre asked, taking another gulp of his water.

"Yeah," He said, his eyes unable to stay off the blood on his clothes. There was no way this man was alright. How was he still standing?

Pierre noticed. "Not mine."

"I'm sorry?"

"The blood," he said, pointing at his shirt. "It isn't mine. I was on my way here when a car crashed into the one behind me. The driver was unconscious and bleeding, but approximatively fine. They're being treated right now."

Nino looked up at his face. "But aren't _you_ hurt?"

"Not physically, no."

Nino wanted to know more, but it didn't seem right to ask. "That's good."

"Go ahead and ask, kid. I can sense your curiosity from here."

He hesitated for a moment. "You aren't really alright, are you?"

Pierre looked down at his feet, a sad smile playing at his lips. "No, I am not. But I will be. Once your mother gets out of the surgery room."

Nino frowned. "I don't–"

"I was lucky," Pierre explained, bitterness tainting his tone. "My wife wasn't."

The young boy's heart sank. That explained the red eyes. Again, Nino was at a loss for words. He opened and closed his mouth – much like a fish – before settling on the safest thing he could think of. "I hope she'll be alright."

"I'm not too worried," Pierre said, but Nino wasn't buying it. "Caline is in good hands."

That made his heart skip a painful beat. He knew someone with that name, but her last name wasn't Dussart, he was sure. He tried to calm himself down, but doubt was making its way through his brain. He needed to be certain. "What does your wife do?"

"She's a teacher," Pierre said. "At Collège Françoise Dupont."

Nino's eyes widened. "Madame Bustier?"

"You know her?"

Nino seemed just as surprised as Pierre was. "I'm one of her students."

"Really? I thought you looked too old to still be in secondary school."

Nino was getting a lot of those kinds of remarks lately. He did grow quite a lot during the past three years, leaving his baby fat behind. His father had even told him that he was starting to look pretty similar to his grandfather. "It's my last year."

"Do you know what they're going to do about your school yet?"

"What do you mean?"

Pierre's expression darkened. "You _don't_ know?"

Fear crept up his spine. "Don't know what? What happened?"

Pierre put his hand on the teenager's shoulder, an uneasy look in his eyes. "Apparently, a car destroyed most of the second floor and–"

" _The second floor_?!" Nino exclaimed, ignoring the looks he got from the patients around him.

"Yes but–"

Nino grabbed his phone from his back pocket with trembling hands. It hadn't even _occurred_ to him that the school could have been attacked. Collège Françoise Dupont had always been a safe place – somewhere to go to during Akuma attacks. He hadn't thought– couldn't understand– what if they–

Pierre forcefully grabbed his wrists. "Nino, _breathe_. No student got hurt–"

"But how–" His breaths were coming out in short gasps.

"Calm down, Nino, calm down. That's it – _breathe_. In and out. Breathe."

After a long agonizing minute, Nino felt his muscles relax a bit. He wasn't exactly calm, but he wasn't on the verge of a nervous breakdown either. This hadn't happened to him in a long while. Gulping, he nodded at Doctor Dussart. "I'm fine."

Pierre eyed him suspiciously. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Nino said, sighing. "I just need a minute or two."

"Does this happen to you a lot?"

He shook his head. "Not anymore."

Nino was thankful Pierre didn't press for more information. Instead, he reassuringly tapped him on the back. "There's no need to panic, anyway. Your friends are probably all fine."

"Do you know what happened?"

"Not exactly. All I know is that the car smashed into an empty classroom and that they managed to evacuate the whole school before anything worse could happen."

He frowned. "But what happened to Madame Bustier?"

"She was at the wrong place at the wrong time. A piece of metal lodged itself in her leg while she was escorting students out."

"Her leg? That's good news, right? It could have been worse."

Pierre nodded, but didn't look very relieved. "It could indeed have been way worse, but the metal may have severed her femoral artery and– and I shouldn't worry you with specifics. She'll be fine, Caline is a strong woman and Doctor Lahiffe is the best surgeon I know."

"She'll be fine," Nino repeated, nodding.

They stayed there, standing next to the vending machine, and talked. Nino talked about his friends, his girlfriend, his university choices and a lot of other things. Pierre was a great listener, but also a very good story-teller. He talked about his many adventures in Africa with Madame Bustier, where a simple holiday had become a race against time to save a village from the flu.

That made Nino _think_. He'd always believed that he'd stay in Paris forever. It was a great city after all – the Akuma attacks aside. His family, his friends, everyone was there. He'd never really thought about leaving the county. Hell, he hadn't even really thought about leaving the _city_ before. Not permanently, at least. How amazing would it be to travel the world with his friends? With Alya?

A sudden call of Pierre's name made them both jump.

Francesca Lahiffe was walking towards them, her ponytail bouncing every step she took. Nino immediately noticed the dark bags under her eyes, a clear sign that she was completely exhausted. However, he also didn't miss her blinding smile.

"You did it, didn't you?" Pierre nearly shouted in glee. "You _saved_ her."

Francesca grinned and went to give him a big hug. "She won't walk for a while, but she'll be fine."

"Thank you," He said, hugging her tight. "Thank you so much."

She smiled and handed him a badge. "Go see her, she might not wake up just yet, but I bet she'll be glad to see you once she does."

He hesitated. "I thought I was too emotionally compromised to be allowed in."

"Technically, you won't be working," she said, winking dramatically, "and if someone says anything, tell them Lahiffe said you could."

Pierre took the badge and smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Francesca."

"It's my job. Now go to her, Dussart."

With one final look at Nino – and a little tap on his shoulder – he disappeared behind a door on the left side of the hallway. Once he was out of sight, she turned to her son and wrapped him in her arms. "I'm glad you're okay."

He hadn't realized how small she was until that moment. "I'm glad you're okay too, mom."

"How long have you been here?"

Nino shrugged. "About four hours?"

" _What_?"

"I intended to leave about two hours ago but then I met Doctor Dussart and we just started talking, so it's fine."

"Did you warn your dad?"

"Of course I did, mom."

Francesca nodded. "Alright, I want you to go home, okay? It's getting dark outside and I don't know how long I'll be here."

"You can't work forever,"

"I'm the adult here, Nino, and the adult is telling you to go home," She said, smiling softly.

He crossed his arms on his chest, returning her smile. "When will the _adult_ be coming home, then?"

"I don't know. Two hours tops, I think."

A stretcher slammed through the hospital doors. Francesca's head snapped to the side, her expression going from calm to focused in a heartbeat. The nurses pushing the stretcher called her over and she nearly materialized next to them. "What happened?"

"It's him," Said one of them, looking at the unconscious man with disgust.

She frowned. "You're going to have to be a bit clearer than that."

"It's _him_. He's the one that destroyed half the city."

She looked around for a moment, suddenly aware of the angry stares coming from the people around the room. With a sigh, she lowered her voice. "Not here. Bring him to Doctor Lebrun. Now."

"Shouldn't he be handed to the police?"

Her glare made the nurse take a step back. "This man is unconscious and hurt. He needs medical attention, not to be locked behind bars."

"But he's–"

"I _know_ who he is."

"The police needs to know–"

She didn't wait for him to finish. She yelled for help and in seconds, the stretcher was pushed through the main door, probably bringing him to Doctor Lebrun. She turned back to the nurses. "Go do your job, there are still people in need of help."

The nurse wasn't backing down. "But what if–"

"Did I _stutter_?"

He gulped. "No, Doctor Lahiffe."

"Then get going."

Nino was surprised her hair didn't slap the man in the face as she turned and walked away. He'd been ready to crack a joke about his surprised face, but the look on hers made him scowl. Something was wrong. "What's wrong?"

She grabbed both his shoulders. "Do you have any news from your classmates?"

"Uh, well, I know Alya and Adrien and Marinette are fine and at home but the others–"

She shook her head forcefully. "What about Sabrina?"

"Sabrina? You mean Sabrina Raincomprix?"

"Yes. Yes, her."

"I don't know. According to Doctor Dussart, no one got hurt and–"

"Do you have her phone number?"

He frowned. "What? No, I don't. We're not friends, just classmates. Mom, what's going on?"

"It's her brother."

"What do you mean?"

"It's Michel Raincomprix. He's the one that destroyed half the city."

* * *

 _One day after the attack_

Nathanaël had never seen this much stubbornness in his entire life.

"Madame Durant, you should really go back inside," Said Amandine Kurtzberg, trying to get the old lady back inside the nursing home.

The white-haired woman didn't pay any attention to her and walked right past them, completely uncaring. She raised her hand and pointed upwards towards the building's roof. "That's my car."

Nathanaël wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he could see part of what once was a yellow car. He brought his attention back to the old woman, who didn't look exactly pleased. "I want it back."

Amandine tried to be as diplomatic as she could. "Madame Durant, it won't be possible to–"

"I'm not talking to you," She snapped, frowning. "I'm talking to the young man here."

Nathanaël's eyebrows nearly flew off his face. "Wait, what?"

"Your car is on the _roof_ ," Stated Amandine, trying hard not to show her exasperation.

"And I want it back on the ground," Said Madame Durant.

"We'll have to wait for the firefighters, Madame."

She crossed her arms. "I _need_ my car."

Some old man sitting on the entrance steps scoffed. "You haven't driven that car for _ages_ , Georgette."

"Who asked _you_ , Edmond?"

Nathanaël was feeling more and more uncomfortable. When his mother had asked him to come help at the nursing home, he'd expected to have to clean up or things like that. He had certainly not expected Monsieur and Madame Durant and their yellow car issue.

Another old woman came to him, eyeing him suspiciously. "Shouldn't you be in school, young man?"

"Uh, well," He started, surprised by her question, "part of it got destroyed so they closed it for now."

"For how long?"

He didn't know why she cared. "I don't know. They didn't say."

"That's unfortunate."

He nodded, smiling awkwardly. "It is."

"I used to work there, you know?"

That surprised him. "What, really?"

"I was the history teacher."

"I love history," Nathanaël said. "It's so interesting."

"I'm glad you think so. Not many youngsters are curious about their country's history anymore."

Nathanaël shrugged. "Some prefer math, I guess."

"Ridiculous, don't you think?"

He laughed. "A bit, yeah."

The woman joined in, her long grey hair moving in time with her shoulders. She looked a lot nicer when she was laughing. "If you like history, you should pay attention."

He cocked his head to the side. "Pay attention to what?"

"Everything. History is being made, my friend."

Nathanaël thought about it for a moment. She was probably talking about the latest Akuma attack. He didn't really understand what she meant, however. "You mean the destruction of Paris?"

"That's just collateral damage."

He wasn't sure most Parisians thought the same. " _Collateral_ _damage_?"

"Unfortunate collateral damage," She corrected.

"I don't understand,"

She smiled. "You're not looking at the bigger picture."

"What bigger picture?"

He half-expected her to come up with some conspiracy theory about how the government was trying to get rid of the humans. (Internet was a dark place.)

"They were fighting each other, weren't they?"

He nodded. "That's what it looked like."

"So one of them is _good_ , right?"

Destroying half the city wasn't exactly what he would call a _good_ deed. "Maybe?"

"Who knows?"

She was starting to confuse him.

"She'll need help," She said, looking up towards the sky.

Nathanaël wasn't sure if she was talking about his mother or someone else. She noticed his confusion, he knew, but offered no further explanation. Instead, she reached for his hand and held it tight. "You are Amandine's son, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Yes, my name is Nathanaël."

"Nathanaël," She repeated, smiling. "What a nice name, I'll make sure not to forget it."

He didn't know what to say. "Uh, thank you?"

"Juliette. My name is Juliette."

He smiled in response. He did like that name – not the story attached to it. He wasn't a huge fan of heart wrenching tragedies.

"Nathanaël?" His mother called from across the street. "Could you come her for a minute?"

He nodded, sending an apologetic look Juliette's way. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Of course. It was nice meeting you, young man," She said, patting his cheek. "Gabriella would have liked you."

He didn't know who that Gabriella was, but he smiled nonetheless. "Goodbye Madame Juliette."

"Good luck, Nathanaël."

If only he'd known what she was wishing him luck for.

* * *

 _Two days after the attack_

André Bourgeois had been busy _before_ the freak Akuma attack, he was completely overwhelmed _after_.

Chloé watched – annoyed – as her father walked around the dinner table, his meal gradually getting colder. Ever since the two Akumas had nearly destroyed the city, his phone had been glued to his ear. Usually, Chloé wouldn't have minded much. She was used to him being too busy to pay attention to her. It helped her sometimes, actually. When she used his credit card to buy herself a new pair of shoes, for example. Or twelve.

And sometimes, he just had one of _those_ moments. The moments where she suddenly mattered so much he had to say something. Unfortunately, those moments often came after an angry letter from one of her teachers.

Chloé still hated science.

"Daddy?" She said, sighing in annoyance, "we were talking."

He didn't listen.

"I don't care if you have to _rip_ it from them, Charles," He growled into his phone, "either you get this situation under control or you're _fired_."

She didn't know who that Charles was, but she sure hoped he was going to listen if he wanted to keep his job. Her father always kept those sorts of promises.

"Do what you must, I don't care." André said, before slamming his phone on the table.

He sat back down on his chair and took a large gulp of his wine, nearly emptying his glass in one swig. He grabbed his fork and started hammering it in his potatoes. "You were saying, darling?"

"I was asking you if you knew what was going to happen to Sabrina's brother?"

He stared at her for a moment, before stuffing his mouth with the food. Chloé tried very hard – very _very_ hard – not to show her disgust. She hated it when he did that and he was very well aware of that. "We'll know when the time comes."

"What does _that_ mean?"

His phone rang once more and Chloé was half-tempted to throw it out the window. With a sigh, he grabbed the device and brought it to his ear once more. " _What_?"

"Daddy just answer my–"

He sent her an irritated look. "Not _now_ , sweetheart."

With an angry huff, Chloé downed what was left of her water and got up from her chair. As she started walking away, she'd expected him to yell at her to come back. Instead, he grabbed his wine glass and went straight to his office. She gaped at his retreating form, _actually_ insulted.

How dare he walk away while _she_ was walking away?

She slammed her bedroom door and jumped onto her bed. She grabbed her phone from her nightstand and opened the conversation with her best friend.

 **Chloé (21:23):** _daddy won't tell me anything_

 **Sabrina (21:24):** _please try to find out please_

The young blonde girl sighed, staring at the ceiling. She'd been trying for two whole days and all he agreed to tell her was they would know later. She didn't want to know later, she wanted to know _now_. This whole thing was getting on her nerves. Thanks to the stupid Akuma attack, her father had ordered her to stay home, no matter what. He'd even told Jean to do whatever it took to stop her from going out.

Why did this have to happen to her?

When her door opened, she didn't even bother looking up. It was probably Jean checking up on her to see if she was still there – miserable or not.

"Chloé," Her father said, his voice a bit strained.

She shot up so fast her phone bounced off her covers and ended up falling off the bed. "Daddy?"

"I believe you want to know what's going to happen to Michel Raincomprix?"

She nodded eagerly. "I've been asking you that for _two_ days."

"For your friend, Sabrina?"

"Yes, she wants to know and has been annoying me non-stop."

"I just received a call from Charles. Michel Raincomprix is in a coma and might never wake up," André explained, sitting down on his daughter's bed.

Her eyes widened. "What? _Never_?"

"It would be for the best."

"What do you _mean_?"

He sighed, his expression going from indifferent to defeated in a second. "People _died_ , Chloé."

"It wasn't _really_ him!"

He shrugged. "There's nothing I can do about it. If he wakes up, he'll have to pay for his crimes."

"That's not fair! He–"

"I can't do anything, darling," André said. "And neither can _you_. It's just the way it is."

She couldn't believe it. How was she going to tell Sabrina about this? There was no way she would take it well. She would probably cry and scream and Chloé couldn't handle that. She hated those kinds of situations. She'd rather avoid that. She wanted to keep her friend.

She reached for her phone and started typing.

 **Chloé (21:37):** _he told me it was top secret sorry_

What Sabrina didn't know, wouldn't hurt her.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thank you very much for reading!


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